


Don't Look Back in Anger

by katy15307



Series: (What's the Story) Morning Glory? 1995 [4]
Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katy15307/pseuds/katy15307
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're filming the titular song's video, Noel's a little confused by director directions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Look Back in Anger

Nothing, nothing in the fucking world makes me regret taking lead on a song like having to do the music video for it. What the fuck was I thinking?  
“With a bit more energy in your eyes.”  
I know I’m not the brightest spark but can someone PLEASE tell me what the fuck that means. If I live to see the other side of the millennium and til I’m ninety or something I’ll still have no fucking idea.  
When we started out I was under the illusion that music videos were glamorous, cool, high fashion, fast cars, hot babes and that, what they actually are is a waste of money and a waste of an afternoon.  
There’s been plenty of fit girls on set, Cigarettes & Alcohol, Champagne Supernova, this one, especially this one but they’re not interested, don’t want to give us the time of day, they just want to do their job and fuck off with our money, that or we’re too mashed to pull them. Not that I’m interested, Meg, y’know.  
I’m playing the guitar, pretending to sing Don’t Look Back in Anger when the director suggests it, “Can you do that bit again with a bit more energy in your eyes?”  
What, a serial killer stare? What is he after? I’m wearing rose-tinted glasses, you can barely see my eyes, never mind what fucking energy level they were at.  
I can’t fucking believe we have to pay people to say ridiculous artsy director shit like that, just so our song can have a spot on MTV, no wonder the stars go broke.  
They must have a tough job working with us, other bands are willing to act and stuff, we’re not having any of that, we’ll play the song, sit and walk slowly, usually looking moody.  
The others didn’t seem to mind, have a laugh with it because they’ve got no choice but me and Our Kid, we just can’t be fucking arsed with it. I know I’m being a massive hypocrite when I get pissed off when he doesn’t show up for filming but he’s the same when I don’t, we’re in this together.  
I was sat in the sun (on one of those beds they put out in the garden, so I start a revolution in my bed, so fucking clever) enjoying a bit of peace and quiet. On my own, it’s the way it should be. Everyone was inside the mansion (don’t know, don’t care what they’re doing) or so I though, someone snuck up behind me and grabbed my shoulders.  
“Jumpy!” he commented cheekily.  
“Gave me heart attack, daft twat!” My heart beat crazily for a moment as I turned to face my younger brother. “Could’ve died!”  
“Shouldn’t be fucking day dreaming when we’re on a job then, should you?” he smiled and brushed his fingers against my cheeks, down my neck held my shoulders again with a much lighter grip. “People win awards for being that dramatic, y’know.”  
The smile and the sweet touch confused me a little, he should be all chain smoking, ranting and storming about by about this time on a video shoot.  
I shrugged, shrugging off his grip. “Thought I was done.”  
“Nah, they want us all in a taxi driving away at the end of the day.”  
I’d forgotten all about that. The video’s big finish staring me and the rest of the band stuffed into the back of a taxi leaving the mansion of white clothed lasses and confused security behind  
“So what? You’re being the good little boy that’s run along to get me?”  
“No, not me, I’m a bad lad.” He slowly moved his hands up my neck and rested them gently on my jawline.  
His hands were warm and always surprisingly soft despite occasionally playing the guitar and thinking himself a manly man.  
“Bad boy, are you?”  
He nodded and stared deep into my eyes. I felt the connection that only we shared and let my guard down, the way I only did for him. He made me forget all about being pissed off at director speak, he could always flip my mood in an instant, for good or for bad.  
I knew he wanted to kiss me, take me in this bed but I didn’t know if he had the bollocks to do it out in the open, in public. He could be so sensitive about keeping it quiet, insisting he can’t sing high notes, avoid any association with what he was.  
“My bad boy?” I raised my eyebrow at him.  
He nodded again. I could see it. He was desperate to lean in, for our lips to touch but he was patient, waiting on my cue, trying to work out my mind.  
Only he'd never been patient, he had to have everything NOW and this was no exception so he slowly leaned in his body inching closer and closer to mine, alluring me into him.  
I was completely lost in his seduction. I needed him to kiss me like nothing else mattered, like I was the only one in his world. I needed him to take control but he paused so close that I could almost feel his hot lips.  
“Do you want me, Noelie?” I could feel his lips moving, carefully brushing past mine as he spoke, teasing me seconds more than he needed to.  
“Oi!” Bonehead suddenly shouted from behind my back. “What you two doing?”  
We pulled away from each other and looked at him as we tried to look natural. He was stood by the door boredly with his arms crossed, waiting.  
“Bumming a lighter.” Liam quickly and smoothly lied. “Mine’s gone.”  
“Yeah, bumming’s the right word.” Bonehead sniggered.  
I shoved my hand in my pocket and gave him mine. I purposely spoke louder than I needed to for Bonehead to hear. “There. Do not lose it!”  
“Whatever… We’ve got more filming to do like now.” he told us, trying not to sound awkward or weirded out.  
He didn't know what to make of what he saw. He didn’t see anything. We weren’t doing anything. We were just talking, Liam begging me for a lighter so he could smoke.  
I stood up and whispered to Our Kid. “Sooner this is all over, the better for us.”  
“Can’t wait.”  
We reluctantly followed Bonehead into the mansion and out the front where everyone was waiting for us. They all looked rather impatient, keen to finish of the day’s filming as soon as possible but I was feeling a lot more cooperative about the whole thing although I’d rather be alone with Liam.  
We were told what we had to do, I was given a magnifying glass and we were directed into our positions in the taxi for the next scene.


End file.
